Dementia
by TheBlueFoxtrot A Samba
Summary: There are worse things that being the friend of a mercenary mouth-runner. Domino just can't think of one.
1. Chapter 1

Domino thought that she'd come home to her nice, quiet house, listen to jazz, and relax in a hot bath with pizza and vodka; don't knock 'til you try it. After that, she would finish reading that book she'd started over three weeks ago. A quiet night at home alone. Not necessarily what the mercenary _wanted_, to be alone, but what was she supposed to do? Get a cat and become the crazy, blue-skinned cat lady that smelled like kitty litter? Get a _boyfriend_? She hardly trusted her tastes. They tended to die, play games, or disappear from the timeline.

Whether being alone was what she wanted or not, that is how she'd decided her night would be. But when she walked through her front door, she got that prickling feeling someone else was lurking in the dark. She simultaneously flipped the lights on and aimed her gun at her intruder, finger on the trigger. Then she recognized the red and black clad figure collapsed in between the coffee table and couch.

"Wade, why are you on the floor? Wait, no. Why are you _bleeding_ all over my floor? Again."

"I missed the couch. Also, you're gonna wanna fix your hallway window before squirrels get in."

"You broke my window?"

"I wouldn't say _break_. Shatter is more like it. Speaking of, grab some tweezers and help a brother out here?"

Domino had already walked to the hallway to investigate the damage. At the end, glass shards littered the floor, and red splattered the hardwood as well.

Wade started giggling from the living room. She didn't want to know.

The window, or rather the hole, was covered almost completely by duct tape. He must have brought that with him because she knew for a fact that there had been none in her home.

"Squirrels are really good at getting through duct tape. I can't tell you how many times they have thwar – nngah! Excuse me…my kidney just regenerated. Hopefully, it's not upside down this time."

She leaned back against the wall inside the living room, trying to force her mind to adapt to the fact that she was going to have to deal with Deadpool. One didn't simply jump into the Olympics that was handling the insane mercenary.

"I swear, Wade, every time you come here, you muck up the carpet."

"I do not."

Domino pointed to a dark stain the couch couldn't completely cover, walked over to a plastic plant in a corner and moved it, showing another stain, then picked up the three rugs spread throughout the room.

"So that's why you have such ugly, random rugs all over the place. I actually tried to clean one that one time."

"Yes, you did. With bleach," she said dryly.

"It got the stain out."

And several feet of the carpet's intended color as well.

"Gimme one good reason why I shouldn't toss you out."

"Because you secretly find me charming and endearing," he said, chin propped up on his hands, elbows on her table. Elbows connected to arms that were still bleeding, pooling red.

The blue-skinned mutant clapped a hand over her eyes, blocking out the sight. Now he's upgraded from her carpet to her furniture. Lovely. What next? The ceiling?

She winced, moving her hand back to her side, and forced herself to look up.

"I swear to Lee, Dom, the monkey did it!"

Her mouth opened, but she thought better of it and closed it. The desire to shoot him was steadily growing with each passing moment, but the futility of it was bleeding on her living room floor. It would only be a waste of bullets and more mess to clean.

"Just…go take a shower," she said finally.

"See, I would, but…" he lifted his left leg. His foot was missing. "I didn't know your neighbor had dogs until I hopped the fence. If you would be a pal?"

Domino counted to ten then dragged Deadpool by his nub of a leg and shoved him into the tub before stomping outside to get his foot. Her life at present was making Cat Lady look pretty appealing.

* * *

Domino muttered to herself, about how she needed to stop planning things and having expectations, seeing as how they all died rather fantastic deaths. She was on her knees, a bucket of soapy water nearby, scrubbing at the blood and whatever-else stains on her coffee table. She had changed into clothes that really needed that one extra reason to get rid of and the holey jeans and faded t-shirt were getting it.

Deadpool – Wade was singing a song in her bathroom so off-key she couldn't even recognize it.

"You're out of towels," he said from behind her.

"Well, if I had known I'd be havin' company then –"

She'd turned to give him a glare, but her gaze didn't quite reach his face. With no mental command to do so, her body flung itself away from Wade, luckily missing the bucket. The man simply stood there, probably feeling absolutely no shame as Domino's face became uncomfortably warm.

She dragged her eyes to his face, and annoyance flared through her at seeing the smile on his lips.

"Why are you naked?"

"Because I just got out of the shower, my clothes are all ripped and bloody, and you're out of towels? Why did I just phrase that as a question when that's the answer? I don't know. By the way, you're gonna wanna clean that hallway bathroom."

Where had she put her gun? She was convinced one shot would be worth it. Domino reached out for the closest thing to her and threw it at him. However, it was only a pillow from the couch and not nearly hard eno – She would not finish that sentence.

"You are an exhibitionist of the worst kind."

"Au contraire. The worst kind would be a fat guy. A guy so fat, other fat people look at him and say, 'Dang, that dude's fat.' A guy so fat, you can't tell if he's male or female for all of the rolls. _That_ is the worst kind. Or second worst kind. I, however, am the best kind because I am sexy, and I know it."

"Wade. Go find pants. Put them on. Talk less."

She knew better than to tell him to stop talking altogether. He'd just talk even longer and louder about things that made no sense.

"Fine. I'm going to call it a night. Should I wait up for you, honey?"

Wade tilted his head to avoid getting beaned the eyes with the flying scrub brush, but it bounced off of the wall and hit him anyway. For the first time since she walked through her door that night, Domino smiled.

Her somewhat elated mood deflated the moment she walked into her bedroom.

"Get out of my bed, Wilson."

He peeked at her from beneath the blankets.

"But –"

"Out."

"I'll keep my hands to myself. Promise."

"Your hands are the least of my worries."

"Honestly, Dom, what kind of man do you think I am?"

Fist on hip, she started to count off her fingers. "A mentally deranged, delusional, homicidal, narcissistic, rude, insecure –"

"Oh my gosh, shut up! Rhetorical question, woman. Learn the meaning."

"You can sleep on the couch, the floor – heck, sleep in the tub, but get out of my bed!" she emphasized her point by kicking him.

He was near enough to the edge that he fell off, but Deadpool dragged her and the covers down with him. Fortunately, she landed on top of the two-hundred and ten pound mercenary. But then, unfortunately…

"WHY ARE YOU STILL NAKED?"

She scrambled off of him, shrieking.

"Well, yours were chafing the boys, and –"

"How could they possibly chafe? You wear a skin tight, full body suit!"

"Hey, that's practically a compliment. Means your skinny. Women like being told they're skinny."

She threw her head back and groaned, more from frustration than anything.

"Aw, you're just made because you like it."

"You realize this is sexual harassment?" she shook her head. "I swear, I cannot stand you."

"Eh. But you, of course, realize this is my personality, and if it really bothered you, then you'd have emptied a few clips from your guns in me and kicked me out. You certainly wouldn't have gone for my foot unless…" He waggled his eyebrows and folded his hands behind his head. "You _like_ having me here."

* * *

Wade on her floor, Domino slept in her bed that night then went out and bought him clothes the next day.


	2. Chapter 2

Domino thought – and really, she should stop thinking things, seeing how that's been going for her lately – that Wade would probably still be asleep by the time she returned home from the store. She'd have enough time for a moment's peace – Wade talked even in his sleep – before the crazed mercenary woke up, and she kicked him out.

Except he wasn't sleeping. Wade could be heard in the kitchen, fighting with the pots and pans from the sounds of it. Her kitchen was separated from her living room by a wall with that quaint, sliding window atop the counter. The swinging door opened a crack as something on the other side hit it.

"Wilson!" She called out.

The clanging hesitated, then something dropped, and it sounded as if every pot she owned simultenously hit the floor. A moment later, Wade opened the window, smiling a tad too bright as he leaned on the counter.

"Hi theeeere! Uh, what's up?"

"Why are you destroying my kitchen?"

"Now that is actually a pretty common misconception. I'm not destroying anything at the moment. I'm making breakfast."

He disappeared from the window and came through the swinging door carrying a tray that she was certain she didn't own laden with a plate stacked with pancakes, scrambled eggs and a bottle of maple syrup.

"I had no idea you could cook."

"They're pancakes and scrambled eggs. Monkeys could do it. "

It all looked edible. There were no suspicious odors. One thing bothered her though.

"Where did you get those pants?"

She wasn't complaining that he'd found clothes, but again, they were not Domino's.

"Your neighbor. He had leather too, but those really chafe, you know. And the interior décor of his house was absolutely fabulous. You should ask him who his decorator was because you, my dear," he flipped his wrist, encompassing the whole house, "need some help up in here. Bloody carpet is so five minutes ago."

"Please tell me no one saw your naked butt going in or out of my house."

"No one saw me, probably," he repeated then pointed at her landline phone, red light blinking, "but you got a lot of messages."

Domino sighed, reminding herself that shooting the regenerate mutate would solve nothing. Another thought occurred to her, but she pushed that way, deciding that she didn't want to know if Wade had stolen underwear as well.

"Sit. Eat," he urged, all but dragging her to the table. "Enjoy."

She allowed him to sit her down and watched with mild curiosity as he prepared a plate for her.

"Why are you doing this?"

"You know," he said, leaning onto the table next to her. "You're a very inquisitive, suspicious lady. But you're also a friend of mine, Dom, and since I can't pay you in money, or guns, or jewelry – I mean, if I could afford a hotel, I wouldn't be here – I just wanted to say thanks in another way."

She was momentarily warmed in a small way at that.

"In fact," he went on, "you're probably my best friend now since Cable…you know. And I don't have that many friends or people who'd do for me what you do without me holding a gun to their head so, seriously, Neena. Thank you."

And that not only touched her because he was serious, it also freaked her out a little bit because Wade just had a serious moment. She worried for all of two seconds before the maniac flung his arms around her and hugged her. One arm trapped against her side, she awkwardly hugged him back. Time drew on, and the hug became awkward.

She was so caught off guard that it slipped her mind to ask why none of her former instances of hospitality warranted a breakfast.

"Wade, le –"

"Ssshh. Don't ruin the moment."

"Moment was over two minutes ago. Get off."

He reluctantly did so, whumping her back twice first and stood up, wiping a tear as he did so.

"Here," she said, holding up the two bags to him.

"For me? Why, you shouldn't have!" he squealed, snatching the bags from her and digging through them.

"Apparently not since you're such an accomplished nudist burglar," she muttered.

With Wade behind her and his attention on something else, Domino cautiously eyed the food before stealing her nerves to at least taste it. As she was pouring syrup over the seemingly cooked if a little crispy pancake, she heard a zipper behind her.

"You had better not be stripping behind me, Wilson."

"…if you don't turn around, you won't know either way."

"I have a butter knife and very lucky aim, you know."

"Don't turn around!"

"Oh my Joss."

"Eat before it gets cold, or you won't get any dessert."

Rolling her eyes, she cut a piece of pancake with her fork, closed her eyes, and took a bite. Surprisingly to her utter shock, it was edible. Not only edible but actually pretty good. She even told him so.

"Don't hold back," he said. "This is awesome. I mean, I'd marry me for this kind of food. But according to every state in the union, that's not legal. And no luck in Canada either."

"Shame. The image of you as a housewife is as amusing as it is terrifying."

"Yeah, yeah. So what do you think?"

Wade strutted next to her, modeling his new outfit of jeans and red sweater.

"It looks like it fits," she answered noncommittally.

She thought it'd looked rather nice.

"How'd you know my size?"

She took a sip of orange juice then shrugged.

"Lucky guess."

He considered her a moment before declaring, "Liar."

"What?"

"You've been checking me out on the sly, haven't you?"

She laughed loudly. "I knew there was a reason I let you stay here."

"Admit it, you think I'm sexy."

"I think you're crazy."

"Crazy sexy."

"Just plain, ol' crazy actually."

"How could you not think I'm sexy? This version of me looks like freakin' Ryan Reynolds. If you ask me, you're the crazy one."

"Didn't ask you."

"Well, I never!"

"Stop being a drama queen and eat with me."

"Thought you'd never ask."

She smirked and said, "Didn't ask you."

….

Sometime after breakfast, Domino caught a look at her kitchen and nearly had a panic attack. After chasing Wade away from it with a broom, she set to cleaning and wondering how someone got eggs on the ceiling.

"Why am I out of garbage bags, Wade?" she yelled.

"Well," he drawled, half-shouting, "some pals came by, and things got kinda…wild, and they made a huge mess. Don't worry though. I…took care of them."

Domino translated 'pals' into 'enemies', 'wild' into 'tried to kill me' and 'took care' as killed them, cut them into pieces, and stuffed them in garbage bags.

"Go get more."

"'kay!"

She heard the front door slam and thought that maybe when he got back, she wouldn't be home.


	3. Chapter 3

Did I mention I didn't own this?

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this. I'll figure something out. Maybe.

* * *

Incidentally, Domino was not home when Wade returned with ice cream, a turtle, chili fries, and someone's sports car. He didn't have trash bags though. He was much dismayed to find himself all alone. However, the Merc with a Mouth was a resourceful, sneaky kind of guy, and he'd bugged Domino's phone and computer. In little time, he'd discovered just where and why she'd gone.

It was a simple matter of 'visiting' Domino's neighbors again – not the ones with dogs – and 'borrowing' a spare credit card and some cash that was lying around. In a matter of hours, Wade was on a plane, headed to New York.

* * *

The Galavanti's of New York hosted _the _black and white gala event of the year. The guest list was extensive and varied. Mob bosses mingled with models, enforcers drank with policemen, mercenaries blended with businessmen.

Neena Thurman feigned attentive while her present admirer consumed several shrimp puffs in between tales of lurid hostile takeovers. She scanned the crowd for her target, and her eyes caught a flash of red. Blood was splashed across a woman's white dress like a piece of abstract art as she stared in shock. A neat circle in the side of her target's head bled freely as he slumped to the ground.

The only problem Neena had was that _she_ hadn't been the one to shoot him. Therefore, she wouldn't get paid. And now, she was going to have to make it someone else's problem.

A waiter was screaming as he rushed from the room, just as the armed guards who were meant to prevent such a scene pulled their weapons, resulting in more panic. She watched the waiter duck around one guard, hit him with a drink tray, and then disappear in the crowd. Before he vanished, he turned to her and winked.

Wade. Of course. The man who was stalking her life.


	4. Chapter 4

Domino was a very lucky woman. It was her gift, and it made sneaking away from her botched mission rather easy. Sky dreary and leaking, she hailed a cab, slid in, dusting water from her hair and unmindful of the driver's curious gaze through the rearview mirror, and gave him an address.

"I really find you very attractive," he said. "Did I say that out loud?"

She could have kicked herself for not noticing that her cab driver was _him_.

"Wade, I swear, if this is another attempt at kidnapping me, I –"

"That was for your own good," he waved a flippant hand, pulling the car into the flow of traffic.

She scoffed. "And you're not going to drug me?"

"Nope."

"Or –"

"Dom, come on, girl. I'm not totally insane. I tend not to repeat behavior that will only yield the same results. Which is, you know, you stabbing and hitting and screaming at me before it's all said and done."

"Yet it's never a permanent deterrent."

"What can I say? Persistence is a virtue."

"No, it isn't."

"Well, it's one of mine."

She leaned forward to properly glare at him. Turning, he smiled and winked again. She forced her lips into a tight line, refusing to smile back.

"You know," he went on, "there are a few girls who wouldn't mind my affection, however…impassioned it may be."

"It must be a spectacular few."

"You could certainly do much worse than me. I mean, it's not like I'm some human scab-factory anymore."

Not even pretending to understand what _that_ was supposed to mean, she rolled her eyes and sat back.

"Oh, yes. What a lucky, lucky girl I am," she deadpanned.

"But you know, just because we had those unfortunate misunderstandings in the past, doesn't mean we can't move forward into a friendly relationship. What do you say to you and me settling everything over a cup of coffee?"  
"A relationship. With you? That is utterly terrifying."

"Don't be like that. I'm great at parties, hilarious, and I could give ol' Ryan Renolds a run for his money in the looks department. I'll hold your hair back while you puke, 'cause that's just the kinda guy _I_ am."

"I gotta tell ya, Wade," she scoffed, "none of that fills me with boundless confidence."

"Just get to know me. Give me a chance."

The sky had cleared slightly, the rain subsiding and leaving the city slick from the rain.

"Said the stalker with obsessive optimism."

He laughed, slightly crazed and boyish. "Oh, you're such a wit. If you don't want coffee, what about dinner?"

"Persistent."

"To an annoying degree I'm told."

"Unfortunately, Wade, it's a policy of mine not to date men who not only stalk me but also steal my mission targets as well."

"You do so enjoy being stubborn. It's really cute."

The cab stopped at a red light. Domino hopped out of the car. Wade sat stunned for a second but recovered before she was out of sight and rolled down the window.

"Hey! You didn't pay, woman!"

"I'll let you buy me coffee sometime," she called over her shoulder.

"Yes!" he pumped his fist. "I'm wearin' you _down_, woman! I'm wearin' you down."

By then, she was gone.


End file.
